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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639963">tell me when you hear my heart stop</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireofthestars/pseuds/fireofthestars'>fireofthestars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - new moon, Angst, Book: New Moon, F/M, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:28:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireofthestars/pseuds/fireofthestars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Never forget that I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else." What if the danger to Bella at her birthday wasn't Jasper, but Edward?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Jacob Black/Bella Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was inspired by a tumblr post about how interesting New Moon would have been if Edward were the one to attack Bella, not Jasper. It was an idea that grabbed me and didn't let go. I spoke to the original commenters on the post about being inspired and got permission to post my own take on it.  https://bellasoutrageousflavor.tumblr.com/post/624835278395277312/edwardsvirginity-the-golden-onion</p>
<p>This fic is entirely plotted out. I anticipate it having 8-10 chapters, depending on how they come out. I'm anticipating having some outtakes that are Edward's POV, but this fic will be in Bella's POV. I am team Switzerland with a strong leaning towards Jacob, but this is an EdBella fic. I may write a Jacob alternate ending, however. </p>
<p>This fic will deal with a lot of dark themes. Bella's journey is a bit different and will include some teen alcohol use, self harm, and suicidal ideation. Please heed the warnings.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The party was, simply put, over the top. Dozens of pink candles, bowls of roses, a table covered in crystal flatware and a pink iced birthday cake that could feed fifty - in a room where only one person could even <i>eat</i> cake. Bella forced her grimace into a smile, smoothing the skirt of the dress Alice had selected for her and reminding herself to try to be gracious. She focused on Emmett’s booming laughter, Esme’s glowing smile and the comforting weight of Edward’s arm around her waist as he gazed at her adoringly. Even Jasper was in good spirits, his eyes a brighter butterscotch than she had ever seen them, and she suspected that he was assisting her relaxation with his gift. </p><p>Which may have been why she slid her finger just a bit too quickly through the envelope holding the gift from Carlisle and Esme. And why, when she felt the sting of the paper cut, she could only blink in surprise. As the blood beaded along the edge of the small wound, she was aware of the sudden painful pressure of Edward’s grip tightening on her waist. Then, several things happened seemingly at once. </p><p>Alice’s strangled shout of “EDWARD, NO!”</p><p>Edward’s other hand roughly grabbing the wrist of her injured arm and pulling it towards him. </p><p>Looking up to find Edward’s face turned monstrous in his sudden, feral hunger - eyes pitch black, teeth bared and dripping with venom. </p><p>A rush of air as Carlisle and Emmett grabbed Edward from behind and pulled him, snarling and growling, from the house. </p><p>Esme’s cool arms wrapping around Bella’s shoulders, guiding her to the piano bench as her entire body began to tremble. </p><p>And then there was silence, save for her own rapid, gasping breaths. </p><p>In a flash, Alice was kneeling in front of her, her fingers feeling strangely less cool than usual. <i>I must be going into shock. </i>That brought to mind an evening, months ago, sipping cokes and inhaling the sweet scent of Edward’s jacket around her shoulders as he watched her closely for signs of reaction to her near trauma. <i>Apparently being nearly raped isn’t half as traumatic as your own boyfriend trying to kill you. </i>A strangled sound like a laugh bubbled out of her throat, chased quickly by a heaving sob, and she realized tears were streaming down her face and pooling in the dip of her clavicle. </p><p>“What ha - why did I - is he? - Oh god, I’m so stupid!” The words tumbled from her lips, rapid and nearly hysterical. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault. God, I’m so stupid.” The words became a mantra. She barely registered that as she sobbed them, over and over again, she was rocking her body. Back - <i>my fault, my fault</i> - and forth - <i>so stupid, so stupid</i>. </p><p>“Shhh, Bella,” crooned Alice softly. Esme may have been stroking her hair, she couldn’t be sure,as her entire body felt like it had been doused in ice water. “Shhhh.” </p><p>She would later realize that Alice never said it was going to be okay. </p><p>-</p><p>What felt like hours later, the tears finally ran out. Bella felt hollow, emptied out and drained. Her body felt strangely numb, as if the connection between brain and limbs had been cut off. She swiped her hand over her cheeks and felt the rough fabric of a band aid. Someone - most likely Esme - had cleaned the small cut and bandaged it. The fact that she didn’t remember this should probably have been distressing, but all Bella could find in her to care about was the fact that, save the two female vampires currently comforting her, the house was completely empty. Jasper had fled in the commotion, whether to assist Carlisle and Emmett or to avoid her blood for his own struggles, or some combination of these options, she didn’t know. Rosalie may have spoken to Esme or Alice, she wouldn’t have known, but there had been no expectation that she would have stayed to help. This entire incident had probably only cemented to Rosalie that Bella was a liability. </p><p>Edward had not returned. </p><p>She forced herself to meet Alice’s concerned golden gaze. “Can you drive me home?” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, flat and lifeless. </p><p>Alice’s brow furrowed and Esme’s hand stilled its path through her hair, but the pixie-like vampire quickly spoke, softly, as if to a frightened cat. “Of course, Bella. Whenever you’re ready.”  </p><p>She stood slowly, her legs trembling beneath her like a newborn foal. “I’m ready now. Thank you.” She turned her eyes to Esme. “Thank you, Esme. Thank you for the gift, and for . . . “ <i>Comforting me when your son, and the love of my life, nearly murdered me in your living room? </i></p><p>Esme’s eyes turned pitying. “Of course, Bella. You’re family, you know that.” </p><p>She nodded stiffly. </p><p>Alice stood at human speed, wrapping her arm around Bella’s shoulders and guiding her to the door. “You wait in the truck, I’ll gather your gifts and then we’ll go.” She gave a gentle nudge for Bella to walk down the stairs, which she did at a slower pace than usual, her body still not feeling entirely under her own control.<br/>
Once in the truck, she dug the keys out of her bag and turned it on, blasting the heat and thrusting her numb fingertips in front of the vent. Almost immediately, there was a small thump of packages being dropped into her flatbed, and Alice was climbing into the driver’s seat. </p><p>They drove silently, Bella still absently trying and failing to warm her icy hands, until the truck stopped at Bella’s driveway. Alice turned in the seat to face her, face drawn and uncertain. “Bella, I -” </p><p>“He’s going to leave, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question. She wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but as she said the words, she felt them settle with cold certainty into her bones. What was it he had said to her once? <i>If leaving is the right thing to do, then I’ll hurt myself to keep from hurting you. </i>She had sworn then that that would never be the case. </p><p>“I . . .can’t be certain,” Alice said, her voice soft and sad. “He isn’t in a place to make decisions right now.” </p><p>Bella didn’t know what this meant, or what to say, so she said nothing, simply nodded. </p><p>“Bella.” Alice rubbed her hair softly. “You need to get some rest. Things always seem less dire after a good night’s sleep, or so I’ve heard.” Her cheeky smile didn’t reach her topaz eyes.</p><p>“Yeah. I’ll try.” She climbed out of the truck and grabbed her gifts before more could be said, ambling awkwardly with her arms full up the drive but noting that Alice didn’t offer to help. When she reached the front door and glanced back, the cab of her truck was empty. </p><p>-</p><p>Twenty minutes later, standing under the spray of a scalding hot shower, she ran her fingers over two identical sets of bruises - four fingers and a thumb, purple and blue on the skin of her wrist and the curve of her waist. And she bit her lip to stifle her sobs as her body thawed, and tears began to flow once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Edward makes a decision.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: There is a big Midnight Sun spoiler in this chapter. MS contained some information that really impacted New Moon for me, and I HAD to use it in this fic. So yeah, be warned about that. I was really angry with Edward after this information, but this chapter made me really feel for him again.</p><p>Also I know I said this fic would only be in Bella's POV but I lied. Edward demanded that I write his side at times, so here goes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was hours before the red haze cleared from Edward’s vision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He came to himself on a distant mountaintop, the sun cresting over the snowcaps and sparking prisms off his skin.  His body ached in a way it hadn’t since he had become immortal, the pain concentrated at his left wrist and right leg. His throat burned like he had been starved for weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He became aware of the gentle hum of concerned thoughts of Carlisle, Jasper and Emmett. Emmett’s grip was iron solid around his arms, pressed against his back. Carlisle and Jasper hovered at each side, slightly crouched as if to spring into motion. Their thoughts were wary, and he couldn’t meet their eyes as Emmett asked, internally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You good now, bro?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The question was simple, but under the words, Edward could read the multiple meanings. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you stable? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He saw himself, eyes wild and black as pitch, snarling and thrashing against his brother and father, fighting tooth and claw to get free as they dragged him miles and miles from their home, from </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> blood. He saw, for a fraction of a second, the perfect reflection of the monster in her wide brown eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you going to try to run again? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He saw them relax, only slightly, about an hour after they arrived here, for just a moment. Saw the monster inside his stone skin use this opportunity to jerk his arm as quickly and forcefully from their slightly loosened grips as it could, using his superior speed to push past them, aiming for the small white house on the edge of town. Saw Carlisle and Emmett catch him by the arm, just barely. Saw them forced to remove a hand, then a leg from the knee down, as he tried once more, and then a third time. Saw the pain from this last injury finally ground him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you alright? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He saw Carlisle’s face, pinched with worry, as his father gazed at his broken and feral form. Heard Jasper’s gentle drawl, asking, </span>
  <em>
    <span>How is he going to move past this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Saw his father shake his head in response, features drawn and sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward wanted to laugh. He wanted to sob. He wished for the ability to cry, to vomit, to break his body further and further until he was reduced to ash, to nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He simply shook his head.  He would never be <em>alright</em> again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took 3 hours, 2 mountain lions and 4 deer to sate his thirst and heal his wounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took another 15 minutes to run the distance back to the house - the same distance that had taken his family an hour to drag him across, so fierce was his struggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took an hour to arrange a family meeting and clean himself up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sports jacket he wore to the party had been lost somewhere in the hillside. The blue dress shirt was torn in multiple places, Emmett’s fingers having shredded the fabric as he attempted to maintain his grip on Edward’s thrashing form. He traced the new scar lining his wrist and the line where his knee met his thigh, the only evidence that remained of his injuries. He wished that there was more - that some part of his stone body were forever maimed. He wondered, if he clawed his own fingers through his chest, past the cage of his ribs, could his dead heart be destroyed? Had any immortal attempted suicide in that fashion? He traced the hollow of his sternum, imagining a ragged scar there, marking him forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were all waiting at the mahogany table when he arrived. The despair and pity in their eyes - all save Rosalie, who looked smug, and Alice, who looked furious - nearly broke him. The gaping pit in his abdomen yawned wider and twisted painfully. He had to clear his throat several times before he could speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to leave Forks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no surprise in their expressions, and he knew that Alice had warned them of his plan. Carlisle and Esme exchanged a glance, before Carlisle asked, “Edward, are you certain that this is the correct course of action? Surely, there is another way?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She makes you so happy, Edward,</span>
  </em>
  <span> pleaded Esme. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, let yourself be happy.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She wants to be one of us, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Carlisle thought gently. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I would do this for you, my son, you know I have the restraint. Should she not be given the option?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward </span>
  <em>
    <span>roared</span>
  </em>
  <span> in rage, and Carlisle’s face went slack with shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> an option!” His words were almost a growl, and Carlisle’s thoughts were immediately conciliatory. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry, my son. I only want you to be happy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He hung his head, his words soft enough that even with their exceptional hearing, they were difficult to discern. “I cannot be happy if Bella is not safe. I have known for some time that this day would come, the day when my presence in her life would be more of a danger than I could defend. I prayed for the strength to leave when that day came.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know this will destroy her!” Alice shouted, jumping to her feet in anger and replaying the vision she had shown him in the spring. Bella, drawn and thin, her expression lifeless. The pain of that image lanced through him like a spear, and he closed his eyes against it, shaking the image away as he met Alice’s stormy gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humans are resilient,” he insisted. His Bella especially, she had strength the likes of which he had never seen. “She will hurt, but it will be temporary - she will heal, and move on, and she will have a normal life.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>She will love again,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and this thought was agonizing, but it was no more than he deserved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alice said nothing, glaring daggers at him, but showed him another vision - Bella and her, arms around each other, Bella’s face marble white and her eyes a deep, vivid crimson. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That vision hasn’t changed - it’s still as solid as ever. This won’t change anything. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his chin defiantly. “I’ve changed the future before.” A meadow, an image of Bella’s broken and bloodless body, transformed into a memory of hot, silky skin against his lips, warm breath in his mouth. “I will do it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were practiced at moving. In only a few short hours, all the arrangements had been made, and the last of their belongings were being loaded into vehicles. The furniture was draped in dust cloths, in case they ever wished to return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emmett asked to be able to say goodbye to Bella<em> -Come on, she's my SISTER, we can't leave her like this! - </em>and threw an entire thesaurus' worth of curse words at him when denied.  <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alice begged <em>(Please, Edward, neither of you will be able to handle this, please just talk to her),</em> threatened <em>(I swear I will never forgive you if you make me leave her like this, she's as much mine as she is yours, I love her too!),</em> and raged (the loud crash of several limited edition vinyl records being smashed against the driveway). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Esme said nothing, but her thoughts were muted, heavy with despair and worry for her son and the girl she had come to love as a daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was better for this to be a clean break, for Bella to be able to move forward with nothing more tying her to them and their world. This was the mantra he turned to in order to soothe the ache of grief and guilt when it threatened to overwhelm him. The churning emptiness inside him roiled and raged as his parents and siblings left their property. At last, Carlisle's hand was on his shoulder, and though Edward knew that his father must have attempted to soothe him in word or thought, the sounds were lost to him. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his family was gone, he moved to the forest. He could not bear to be in his room, surrounded by her scent and the ghosts of their memories. He would hunt, again, so that he would be fully sated. So that when he saw her again, for the last time, she would be in no danger from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he would count the hours until he could memorize her face, before he broke her heart to save her life. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Grief</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bella and Edward have a talk.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> The sun was high and bright over the meadow, warm on her arms.  Edward’s cool lips ghosted over her jaw, his fingers brushing the back of her hands in small circles. The light threw glowing prisms off of his alabaster skin, the patterns dancing across the page she was trying to focus on.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Edward,” she giggled as he brushed the hair back from her shoulder and kissed the junction of her jaw and neck. “I can’t focus with you distracting me.”  </em>
</p><p><em>He chuckled, his sweet breath fanning her skin and making her shiver. “God forbid, your attention strays from reading </em> Wuthering Heights <em> for the hundredth time.” His nose skimmed down the column of her neck. “I will never understand the appeal. The characters are utterly monstrous.”  </em></p><p>
  <em>She felt herself melt into his touch, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to allow him greater access. She was rewarded with the delicious sensation of his tongue tracing a small circle in the dip of her clavicle. Her voice was breathy as she said, “No one who can love that deeply is truly a monster.” They both knew that he was speaking of more than characters in a novel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something about his answering laugh, dark and throaty, made her open her eyes, a frisson of anxiety running down her spine. That anxiety turned to dread when her gaze met his, for his eyes were not their usual honeyed amber, but a vivid, violent red. His crooked grin was in place, but it was somehow cold.  </em>
</p><p><em>“Oh, Bella.” He </em> tsk <em> ed softly. “You really should know better.” His smile widened, turned to a leer, his teeth gleaming dangerously white -  </em></p><p>
  <em>And he lunged for her throat.  </em>
</p><p>She woke screaming, her heart racing like a marathon runner’s, legs thrashing and kicking her blankets away. Her body was covered in a cold sweat and for a moment she was startled - she was usually slightly chilled in the mornings, even under her heavy quilt. In the time it took her screams to die off, and her heart to slow to its normal pace, she realized that she was alone in her room, and there was no trace of Edward’s sweet scent surrounding her. </p><p>The panic from her nightmare was replaced by a heavy blanket of weariness as the events of the previous night replayed themselves in her mind. She lifted her tank top and pressed her fingers to the side of her waist, wincing as they found the tender, bruised flesh. Thankfully, it seemed that Charlie had already left for work. A quick glance at the alarm clock showed she only had 15 minutes to get ready for school. </p><p>She rose numbly, going first to the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth and take 2 Tylenol, before returning to her room to dress. She barely noticed the clothes she chose beyond ensuring she was wearing a long sleeved shirt to hide the bruises on her wrist. The thought of walking the halls today, not knowing where Edward was or if he was okay, caused her eyes to prickle with tears. <em> But I’ll see Alice, and she can let me know how he’s doing. </em> She ignored the empty ache in her chest, the growing pit of dread in her stomach.  <em> Maybe she can help me figure out how we can move past this.   </em></p><p>-</p><p>Only, Edward wasn’t the only Cullen missing from school that day.  </p><p>Bella felt as if she was sleep walking through the entire day. Her gaze was continuously pulled to their table, their parking spot, their lockers - finding only empty space every time. The pit in her stomach grew larger as the hours crawled by, making it impossible to focus on her classes. By the time the last bell rang and she walked to her truck, the panic from the morning was making a reappearance. Her chest was tight and her head was buzzing as she pulled the Chevy out of the lot to drive home. </p><p>The sight of Edward’s lanky frame waiting at her front steps made her stomach flip. She tried to pretend that her hands weren’t shaking as she killed the engine and stepped out, but her legs felt strangely light and hollow as she walked towards him. Desires warred within her - to run to him and throw her arms around him, to kiss his face and reassure him, to go back to her vehicle and run to La Push where he could never get to her. Because, even as she took in his bleak expression and haunted eyes, she was also seeing the frenzied hunger for her blood that had overtaken his face the night before. </p><p> </p><p><em> Stop it, this is </em> Edward. </p><p> </p><p>She stopped an arm’s length away from him, groping for words for a moment, before speaking in a small voice. “Hi.” </p><p>It seemed as if Edward tried to smile in response, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly, but it became a grimace. His expression flattened again before asking, “Come take a walk with me?” The emptiness in his voice caused an ache deeper than her bruises to bloom within her, and she nodded, following him to the side of the house. He didn’t look back at her as he walked, but kept his pace slow enough for her to match, as he went to lead her just slightly into the woods at the edge of the property. She hesitated, then, her heart lurching briefly and her throat feeling tight with a flash of fear. He paused as well, and she heard the hitch in his breathing and knew that he had registered these responses. His fists clenched at his sides and his head bowed before he turned to face her, his expression tortured. </p><p>“I apologize, Bella. I didn’t intend to frighten you.” The words were slow and soft, like someone speaking to a wounded animal. </p><p>Shame flooded her, eyes stinging, and she focused on her Converse. “You didn’t, Edward, I’m sorry!” She shook her head as if to shake away her traitorous thoughts, her ridiculous fears. Words spilled from her lips, messy and hurried. All the emotions from the last 24 hours were bubbling up, boiling over, and her tongue felt like it was tied in knots as she tried to express them all. “I’m just tired, I barely slept, and I’ve been so worried all day, and I’m sorry about last night, I should have been more careful, but it’s okay, I swear it is, I won’t do anything that stupid again, and yes I was scared but we can get through this - “ Tears were streaming down her cheeks in earnest now, her breathing harsh and ragged. She raised her face to Edward’s, and the fury in his expression stopped her cold. </p><p>“You’re sorry?” His voice was eerily calm, but his eyes were flat black, like polished onyx. She nodded weakly. “Sorry for what, Bella? Sorry for getting a paper cut? Sorry for <em> bleeding </em>?” He stepped forward, one perfect brow arching mockingly. “And if it had been a normal party, what do you think would have happened, hmm?” He took another step forward, and she felt her heart begin to race once more as he moved closer to her. She took a deep breath in through her nose and forced herself to stay still, knowing that if she showed her fear to him now, she would lose him. “Maybe they wouldn’t have been able to find a band-aid. Maybe you would have gotten a little blood on your lovely dress. But at a normal party, with a normal boyfriend, it would have been a blip on the radar.” He moved forward once more, and now he was almost toe-to-toe with her. His gaze dipped to her neck. “With a normal boyfriend, your life wouldn’t have been in danger.” His hand raised to hover in front of the hollow at the base of her throat, where her traitorous heart was hammering wildly. His next words were soft, almost whispered. “If I were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be terrified of me right now.” His eyes flew back to hers, and now they were golden again, golden and pained and pleading. </p><p>“I’m not,” she tried to protest, but he could smell the adrenaline, could hear the way her pulse was flying, her uneven breathing. And then, most damning, he saw her flinch as he moved to touch her skin there, at the dip in her clavicles where he had rested his hand so many times before. His hand dropped as if it had been burned and he stepped back, shaking his head sadly. </p><p>“You are, and you should be. This is what I always wanted, after all.” The corner of his lip curved up slightly, a weak mockery of the grin that usually melted her knees. “I was always waiting for the day that you ran away screaming.” </p><p>Anger flashed through her and she straightened her spine. “I’m not running away! We can get past this!” Pushing through the fear, she lifted a trembling hand to his marble cheek. Edward shivered slightly at the contact, and a brief spark of hope lit within her, the comfort of his cool skin under her palm allowing her pulse and breathing to become more even. Bella’s next words were steady and sure as she traced her thumb across his cheekbone. “I believe in us.” </p><p>Edward’s eyes closed, his hand raising to cover hers, and he sighed softly before his brows furrowed as if he were in pain. He spoke so softly she almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I tried to come back, Bella.” </p><p>She didn’t understand at first, and opened her mouth to ask for clarification, before, like a punch to the gut, she <em> did. </em> Her thumb stilled its movements as his meaning caused ice water to flood her veins. He had tried to come back, to finish what he had been prevented from starting. To finish <em> her. </em> </p><p>He drew in a ragged, unnecessary breath as her hand dropped from his face. His eyes opened and met hers once more. “We can’t do this anymore, Bella. We have been fooling ourselves. I’m a vampire. You’re my prey. Worse than that, you’re my <em> singer. </em>” He shook his head in disgust, running his long fingers through his messy bronze hair. “There was no way for this to end except in tragedy.” </p><p>“Then change me!” She cried, desperately, tasting salt at the corner of her lips. She wasn’t even sure that this was what she wanted anymore, the thought causing her gut to clench uncomfortably, but she could feel the emptiness of his loss already. “Change me and we can be equals!” But he only shook his head sadly, as she knew he would. </p><p>“That’s not an answer, Bella.” </p><p>They stood in silence for a moment, or two, or twelve. Her body ached, her throat was sore, and her cheeks felt raw and flushed. Edward was silent and still as only vampires could be as he waited for her tears to slow and then subside. The inches between them felt like miles. </p><p>“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Her voice was flat, lifeless, and his mouth twitched.  </p><p>He nodded slightly. “We won’t bother you again.”</p><p>“<em> We?” </em> Her eyebrows furrowed in surprise and dismay. “You’re <em> all </em> leaving?!” Her throat felt tight at the thought. Not only was she losing Edward, but her best friend - her <em> family </em>. “Can I at least say goodbye?” </p><p>He looked apologetic. “They’ve already gone.” His words caused nausea to roll in her gut. “We thought it would be better to have a clean break. You should be able to live without any involvement in our world and its risks.” </p><p>She should have been angry at this, another decision made unilaterally for her. She should have yelled at him, told him how self righteous he was. Or maybe she should have begged for him to reconsider, laid herself prostrate at his feet and wept for their love. But Bella was so <em> tired, </em>and ultimately she knew that nothing she said would change the outcome. Edward had his mind set, and deep down she knew that he had been preparing for this since the day he first spoke to her in biology. His goodbyes had been pre-written, and now he was exiting stage left. </p><p>She moved slowly, telegraphing her intentions as she stepped forward and lifted her face to press a feather light kiss on his smooth cheek. His breath ghosted across her face for the last time, sweet and cool, as she whispered, “Goodbye, Edward.” </p><p>She closed her eyes before turning away, and felt a stirring of air at her back. And she knew that he was gone. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this was so painful to write, i'm going to have a glass of wine now</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Coping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bella tries to survive.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry this chapter took so long. I knew the various coping methods I wanted Bella to try, but I couldn't make it come together. The previous chapter was really emotionally draining, and I drew on a lot of personal experience for this one, so it was hard. I hope this doesn't suck. Also all the Jacob/Bella just happened, okay, so the alternate Team Jacob ending is definitely happening. </p><p>cw for this chapter: drug use, alcohol, self harm, medical procedures</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>September. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The days passed in a haze. Time moved strangely, dragging on and then blazing forward, disorienting in its instability. Entire days were lost to this fog, with her coming to herself only when Charlie joined her at the dinner table. Objectively, she knew this should have been frightening - losing time, being unaware of her own activities. After all, any number of catastrophes could occur with her so abstracted. A car accident, the house burning down as she cooked in this robotic state, a fall down the stairs. She catalogued these possibilities, but instead of feeling fear or panic, there was a shiver of something like pleasure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>October. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nightmares became routine. The settings and cast varied, but blood and grief were the constant players. For the first several weeks, her screaming had woken Charlie, causing him to rush to her bedside in a futile attempt to offer comfort. The pain in her father’s eyes twisted in her gut like a knife, but no matter what she tried - chamomile tea, meditation, journaling - she couldn’t make them stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bella had never been a coffee fan, with the occasional soda being the extent of her caffeine intake. The first morning she sat down across the kitchen table with her own mug of black coffee, her father’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she took a sip only to immediately spit it out, Charlie barked out a laugh that he tried to swallow down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might want to try some milk and sugar,” he advised, before opening his paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, her coffee now considerably lighter and thickened with copious amounts of sugar, she tried again. He watched her expectantly as she took her first drink and when it didn’t come back out, he offered her a hesitant smile. She forced herself to return it, and it only ached a bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was going to be a Halloween dance at Forks High School. This was the constant topic of conversation at her table. Jessica was extolling the virtues of various couples costumes to Mike, while Eric was attempting to corral the others to do a group Star Wars theme. Bella was moving her salad around her plate with the flimsy plastic fork, trying not to stare at the empty table across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bella, you should come!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was startled by being addressed, her silent presence having long since been accepted as a matter of course, but Angela’s face was open and sincere. Bella’s stomach twisted at this gesture, as she noticed that now everyone’s eyes were on her, waiting for her response.  She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, and was cut off by a derisive snort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Lauren chirped, voice nasal and syrupy sweet. “I know the perfect costume for you, Bella!” She flipped her cornsilk hair and grinned. “You can be a zombie.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bella did not go to the dance. After that day, she spent lunch in the library. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jacob and Billy Black came to the house on Halloween night. Jacob helped her hand out candy while their dads watched a football game. When the last of the children had gone, they sat side by side on the porch steps as he worked his way through the leftover candy. The night air was brisk but the space between them was warm, as if he radiated heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard about. . .you know,” he said softly after a while. She pressed her hand to her sternum, to the hollow ache there, as she nodded and stared at their feet. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been asked this question so many times, by so many people, but something in Jacob’s voice tugged at her. There was none of the tacit expectation that the words held for others, no hint that he was seeking a specific response. Maybe that is why, instead of shrugging her shoulders or forcing a smile, she felt her head shaking, why she heard herself saying, softly, “No.” She felt something crack inside her with the word, a splinter in the wood of the door holding her emotions at bay. Her eyes stung. “No, I’m not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake was beside her in an instant, then his arms were around her. He was hot like a bonfire and smelled of the forest and mint, and as his large hand rubbed up and down between her shoulder blades she felt herself thawing in the warmth of his embrace. It burned, like placing a frostbitten limb in front of a fire, her heart and body casting off the numbness of the past weeks.  And then she was crying, grief a lump in her throat as sobs shook her frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fell into bed that night, exhausted and still wearing her tear stained sweater, and she did not dream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>November. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no falling back into the emptiness, after Halloween night. Her armor had been well and truly stripped away, and she felt as raw as an exposed nerve. The world felt too bright, too loud. She was suddenly, acutely, aware of the empty space in her small twin bed, of the sheets that held no trace of Edward’s chill or his scent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>School was a different form of torture now, a cacophony of voices and sounds that left her chest and throat tight. Whereas before she could get through classes on autopilot, now Bella found herself having to excuse herself to the restroom several times a day when the sensory overload became too much to bear. She would duck into a stall, tears stinging her eyes and breath coming in short pants, and dig her fingernails into her palms until the world stopped spinning. The sharp bite of pain slowed down her brain, allowing her body to follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day before Thanksgiving break, she exited the farthest stall to find Tara Galvez leaning against the wall. They had only spoken a few times since working together on a biology project in Junior Year, so it was a shock when Tara invited Bella to go with her to get something from her car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was how Bella Swan, daughter of a police chief, found herself getting stoned for the first time under the football bleachers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have panic attacks, too,” Tara confided as she packed weed into the small purple glitter glass bowl, “so I get it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Panic attacks?” Was that what was happening to her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you know, feels like you’re having a heart attack? I’ve seen you racing down the hallway when it happens. It’s scary as fuck, but this helps.” Tara handed the bowl to Bella, who hesitated, color flooding her cheeks as she thought of what her dad, let alone </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> would think if they saw her doing this. “It’s no different than taking anxiety medicine,” Tara said, “Sometimes the brain just needs a little help getting its shit together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made sense to her, and, mind made up, Bella brought the glass to her lips and followed Tara’s instructions, taking a deep breath as the bowl was lit and continuing to inhale as the smoke filled her mouth, coughing hard several times as she did. When she couldn’t breathe any deeper, she held her breath, feeling her head start to spin before exhaling in a rush of air and smoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her throat burned the way she imagined a vampire’s thirst felt, but within moments, her body began to feel loose. Her heartbeat felt slow and heavy in her chest, but not unpleasantly so. It felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her, her usually chaotic mind blissfully quiet and calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good shit, huh?” Tara grinned, her own eyes bloodshot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bella nodded, returning the grin with her first real smile in months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tara gave her a rolled joint for the road. Bella had to stuff a towel under her door and open the window that had been shut for 2 months, before showering twice, but she was able to eat an entire plate of Thanksgiving dinner and sleep without waking up once. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>December.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bella couldn’t smoke often, although Tara made it clear she was always welcome. Charlie would kill her, for one thing, and for another, she knew this could easily be a slippery slope for her. She reserved her small stash for emergencies, days when the panic absolutely overwhelmed her, when she needed a full night’s sleep without nightmares, when her clothes began to hang too loose on her frame and she knew she needed to eat a full meal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had done an internet search on panic attacks during the break. The idea of actual therapy was quickly ruled out, as she was pretty sure that honesty was important for therapy to work, and honesty in her case would be a one way ticket to a padded room. But there were lists of coping skills, and she decided that trying some of them wouldn’t hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep breathing was a complete failure, any attempt leading to hyperventilation rather than relaxation. Meditation allowed her mind to roam, which was a dangerous thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was considering the list as she chopped tomatoes and onions for the lasagna she was making. Her mind wandered to the list of conditions she had found that could cause panic attacks, the words “post traumatic stress disorder” that had leapt out at her, when she felt a sharp flare of pain in her hand. She looked down to see a thin cut on her palm, blood slowly blossoming to the surface, and dropped the knife as panic gripped her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew she needed to move, to get a towel around the wound, to grab the bleach to douse the knife in to kill the scent, but she was frozen as blood began to flow in earnest, dripping from her open hand to the aged linoleum. Her stomach roiled and she wrenched her eyes shut, only to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> face, twisted in fury and thirst, behind her closed lids. The image combined with the smell of rust and salt and her guts lurched, with her barely making it to lean over the sink before retching up tears and bile. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re not here. I’m panicking about bleeding but they’re not here, he’s not here, and they never will be again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>These thoughts caused her to vomit again, before sinking to the floor sobbing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later, Charlie found her in that same spot, ground beef spoiling on the counter and her dried blood smeared on her shirt and the floor. He ducked to wrap his arm around her waist and half carried her to her truck, driving her to the hospital with her hand cradled to her chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Snow offered a local anesthetic, but Bella declined, ignoring the questioning look Charlie gave her. As the needle and thread stitched the wound closed, she focused on the pinch and stab and pull, and thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I deserve this.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t on any of the lists, but she found that when the panic started to build, she could push it down with the painful tug of flesh as she clenched her fist around the stitched wound. She wondered if any other pain would serve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike Newton was throwing a Christmas party, and for some reason, she was invited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some stranger reason, Charlie </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> her to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to hang out with your friends, Bells. You’ve been a shut in for months, it’s not good for you.” She heard the words he didn’t say - </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m worried</span>
  </em>
  <span> - and agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last Friday of school found her, dressed in her nice red sweater that she tried to forget Alice had picked out for her, driving her Chevy to First Beach at sunset.  A large bonfire was already started, and she felt her heart begin to race as she looked at the figures of her classmates surrounding it. She considered turning around and going home, but Mike caught her eye and waved her over. She tightened her fist, the still healing wound on her palm protesting with a sting, and forced herself to turn off the engine and step out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took the first cup of beer that was offered to her, chugging it down despite the bitter taste. Angela looked at her with a frown, but Mike and Tyler cheered her on. She drained the glass and was immediately handed another, taking a gulp before walking on her own towards the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, alright? </span>
  </em>
  <span>His voice, teasing and slightly mocking, floated across her consciousness for the first time in months, sending a sharp stab of agony through her middle. Her arm unconsciously wound around her abdomen, as if to hold together the wound that seemed to be reopening. She took another gulp of her disgusting beverage, imagining his features pinched in disapproval at the act. Anger suddenly flared in her gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” she muttered, taking another drink. The flame in her belly seemed to grow with the alcohol. “Fuck you, for always thinking you knew best.” Another drink. “For making me feel like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like a stupid, boring human, who couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> understand you or your world.” A long, dragging gulp. “Fuck you for pushing me away with one hand while pulling me closer with the other. Fuck you, fuck you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck you</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Her face felt hot with rage and the flush from the beer. She drained the rest of her cup and crushed it in her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bella?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped and spun around, dropping her cup on the sand, to find Jacob Black looking at her, his expression bemused. “Shit, Jake! You scared me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his hands and shrugged. “I can see that, but given that you were busy cursing out the ocean, I’m not surprised.” He lifted a brow and grinned as she blushed, making her cheeks even warmer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” she croaked, embarrassed. “The ocean is a real arrogant asshole sometimes, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.” And she knew, from his tone, that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Want me to grab you another beer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jacob Black! You are fifteen years old!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned again. “Sixteen, and I’m not drinking, but it seems like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> are. No judgment, but I can come keep the wolves at bay.” He glanced meaningfully at the bonfire yards away, where Mike, Tyler and Eric were all watching them with too much interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” she groaned, but they walked together back to her friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jacob drove her home that night, but she didn’t see him again until Christmas. He brought her a beautiful dream catcher made with beach glass and a wooden wolf charm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie mentioned you’ve had some nightmares,” he said, shrugging. She threw her arms around him in a hug, his grip as warm and comforting as ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have nothing to give you!” She protested, guilt catching in her throat.  He insisted she didn’t need to give him anything, but she vowed, “I will find something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week later, when she saw the motorcycles for sale at the curb, she knew she had. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Motorcycles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which jacob and bella build some bikes and bella hangs out with actual teenagers!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i am so sorry about the delay for this chapter. it has been planned out but honestly very difficult for me to get the motivation to write. i'm honestly not thrilled with how it turned out but we're past the motorcycle knot (nod to grrm there) and getting to the home stretch now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The motorcycles on the curb at her neighbor’s house had seen much better days, but as Bella watched the man load them into the back of her Chevy, she bounced on the balls of her feet in anticipation of presenting them to Jacob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake bounded out of the garage before she was fully in park, and caught her in his arms as she stepped down from the cab. His embrace was welcome, his familiar woods-and-peppermint scent a balm to her spirit, but she gently pushed him back after only a few moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you something,” she answered his raised eyebrow, and guided him to the bed of the truck. “But you have to help me get them down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile, after she removed the weathered tarp, was as brilliant as the sun on a clear afternoon, and flooded her with the same warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bells! These are amazing,” he gushed as he ran his hands reverently along the handlebars. “These are actually decent bikes, or they can be. But the parts are probably going to cost a pretty penny.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged, thinking of the modest amount in her college savings account. “I’ll take care of that, but if you’re interested in fixing them, you can keep one for yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you kidding? Hell, yes!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She exhaled in relief, and then a thought struck her. “One more thing - can you teach me how to ride?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a few trips to the junk yard, but they were able to obtain the parts Jake said he needed to repair the bikes, and quickly settled into a routine. Bella stipulated that they use one afternoon a week to work on homework, but most afternoons were spent in the garage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being with Jacob was easy, comfortable. He seemed to intuitively understand certain things about her, never questioning her aversion to having music playing while they worked, or why she sometimes arrived 15 minutes late with glassy eyes. She was introduced to Quil and Embry, and they immediately began to tease her as if she had been friends with them for years. The boisterousness of the three boys was strange to her, but the first time she saw Quil and Jacob wrestle, she laughed until her stomach ached. It was only later that night that she realized, that was the first time she had laughed while sober in months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One chilly night, as she shivered next to the small space heater in the corner of the garage, Jacob called her name before tossing her a bundle of fabric. She unfurled his black La Push Beach hoodie and quickly pulled it over her head before pulling her knees to her chest and burrowing into the sweater, tucking her hands into the pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-thanks, Jake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, sure.” He smiled his sunshine bright smile at her and she grinned in response, then pushed her nose into the fabric and breathed deeply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t ask for the hoodie back before she left, and when she wore it to sleep that night, she didn’t dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Days passed quickly in a blur of warm sodas, easy conversation and cheap pizza. Once or twice, they took the day off to sit on the beach with Quil and Embry, watching the driftwood burn blue. Once, the three of them convinced her to drive to Port Angeles to see the new Harry Potter movie. She tossed popcorn into Embry’s mouth as Jacob and Quil argued about the toughest Triwizard Tournament task. As she listened to their impassioned arguments, she realized that, if this was being a normal human teenager, it was actually . . .kind of amazing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two days after the movie theater, Jacob turned up on her front porch, tears in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jake, what - ?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Embry,” he choked out, and her stomach twisted. “Sam got to him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the next half an hour on her couch as Jacob explained Sam Uley’s “gang”, who fancied themselves protectors, and Embry’s strange illness that ended with him now avoiding his old friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the worst part,” Jacob seethed, “is that now Sam is always watching me, like he’s waiting for something. And Bells, I want nothing to do with it.” He met her eyes for the first time since his explanation began, and the look in his was pure desperation. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it, Bella.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her throat burned and her eyes stung as she pulled her friend, her best friend, into her arms. He melted into her embrace, his skin hotter than usual but his scent just the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, Jake, I’ve got you,” she soothed. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, it was her turn to hold him as he cried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two weeks later, he met her at her truck with a gleam in eyes that had been missing since Embry’s disappearance. His grin was wide and bright and she gasped. “They’re done?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re done!” He caught her in a hug and swung her around as she whooped in delight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he breathed as he set her on her feet, a blush on his cheeks. “You ready to go for your first lesson?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drove out of the rez on a side road until he found a suitable patch of pavement. He walked her through the controls and her body buzzed with anticipation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure about this, Bells?” His brows were furrowed with concern but she nodded decisively. “Okay, show me again how you brake.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had her demonstrate acceleration and braking twice more before he crossed his arms and moved to the side. He sighed and squinted again at her but swept an arm out. “Whenever you’re ready.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heart thumping hard behind her ribs, she put both feet up and pulled the clutch before starting the bike. She listened to the engine purr, felt the slight vibration under her body, before slowly releasing the brake. The bike jerked to life under her, the feeling like dropping from the top of a rollercoaster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As her heart leapt into her throat, she felt her face break into a wide grin. The wind whipped across her cheeks and cut through her thin jacket. The speed was exhilarating, the scenery blurring past her. All she could see was green, all she could feel was the wind, her racing pulse and the adrenaline singing in her veins. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if this is how Edward feels when he runs . . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought was like a bucket of ice water and a cattle prod to the heart all at once. The agonizing flare of pain in her chest was enough to throw her off balance. She clutched at the brake too quickly, and found herself in flight before tumbling head over feet and coming to a crashing halt as her forehead bounced against a stray rock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their first ride cost her 8 new stitches in her forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their second cost a sling on her left wrist, but she stayed upright for 5 minutes longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The third ride only required a butterfly bandage over her right eyebrow. And by the fourth, she was getting away with only bruises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jacob never questioned her insistence on continuing to ride, and she was glad. She wouldn’t have known how to explain to him that it was the closest she would ever get to being one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>them.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bella stealing Jacob’s hoodie is an idea from @howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen on tumblr, who graciously agreed to let me steal it for this fic</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. valentine's day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>valentine's day throws a kink in bella's recovery</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry the updates are taking so long. there are multiple reasons why, but to be brief: real life is busy, motivation is a fickle floozy, and time moves weirdly in a pandemic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bella’s days were now split into two distinct halves:  the eight hours of school, when she attempted to be as much of the old ‘responsible Bella’ as possible - her grades had fallen during her time in the black hole of grief, and if remaining human was her destiny, as it appeared to be, then mundane things such as college and a vocation were suddenly very real and near concerns; and the afternoons spent with Jacob and the bikes, flying high on adrenaline, caffeine and Jacob’s warm company. The nights, while still painful, were bearable and the nightmares less frequent. </p>
<p>She was coping. She was, maybe, even beginning to move forward. </p>
<p>Until the day she walked into school, buzzing from the mug of overly sweet coffee she had just chugged in the cab of her truck, to find herself surrounded by an explosion of red and pink flowers and hearts. </p>
<p>Pain hit her like a hammer to the chest and bile rose in her throat. It was Valentine’s Day. </p>
<p>Everywhere she looked it seemed there were suddenly couples in love. Mike was leaning against Jessica’s locker, smiling smugly as she sniffed a small bouquet of roses. Lauren’s arms were thrown around Tyler, a stuffed white bear in her hand. Angela was blushing as she read a card attached to a vase of orchids. Others were kissing against the lockers, twining their hands together smiling softly at each other, stroking fingers down cheeks - <i>golden eyes shining as a cool finger swept her face from temple to cheekbone -</i> </p>
<p>The memory almost brought her to her knees, her breathing rapid and shallow, the pain in her chest searing in its agony. <i>Have to get out of here, have to get away!</i></p>
<p>On numb legs, she stumbled out the doors and across the parking lot as quickly as possible. She fumbled with the keys to her truck, hands shaking as her pulse hammered behind her temples, but finally got the door open and threw the truck into reverse before the door was fully closed. </p>
<p>Thanking her luck that Charlie always pulled a double on Valentine’s Day, Bella flew up the stairs and barely made it to her bed before collapsing into a sobbing, gasping heap. </p>
<p>
  <i>The bed was huge, a four poster made of a solid dark wood with a gauzy white canopy.  Petals of pink, red and white roses were scattered artfully over the matching white duvet. It was stunning, romantic and sensual. </i></p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Cool lips pressed to the side of her throat as her hair was swept over her shoulder. Long fingers trailed from her clavicle to her shoulder, and down her bare arm, an icy trail that lit every nerve ending on fire. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”Edward’s voice was like velvet in her ear, his sweet breath making her shiver in delight. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Edward,” she began, turning halfway in his arms to face him. “I -” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Whatever she was going to say was cut off in a blazing, searing kiss, his cold lips pressing so firmly to hers that she was sure she could feel them bruising. They broke apart, her panting slightly and his butterscotch eyes seeming to glow. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Come, my Bella, try some of your treats.” Edward led her, still feeling slightly dazed, to a small white table on which sat a glass of champagne and a tray of chocolate covered strawberries. He lifted a single strawberry from the tray and held it to her lips, raising an eyebrow expectantly until she bit in. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The chocolate was semi sweet, the strawberry ripe and bursting in her mouth with the first bite. Bella found herself suddenly ravenous, finishing the large strawberry in only one more bite, and Edward had another ready for her immediately. The juice in the next berry was thicker, richer and infinitely sweeter and she closed her eyes in delight as it filled her mouth. She ate another, and another, the thick nectar sating the aching hunger gnawing in her gut. When Edward’s hand was finally empty, she found herself licking the tips of his fingers until he gently held her back. “Enough, my love,” he gently chided. She opened her eyes, not having realized they had been closed for so long, and gasped. Edward’s eyes were no longer the liquid gold she adored so, but a vibrant blazing crimson. She instinctively took a step backwards, and held up her hands as if to ward him off. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Her hands, which were covered in thick streams of dried blood. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No,” she mumbled, horrified. “No, no, no no no.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Bella, my love, what’s wrong?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>She looked frantically around the room for solace, but what had been a romantic scene was now that of a horror movie. The rose petals were streaks of blood spatter, the ornate silver tray which held her berries was stained rust-red, the champagne glass was full of a thick, syrupy crimson fluid. And Edward’s face and chin were coated in a thick layer of dripping gore. </i>
</p>
<p><i>She opened her mouth and began to scream.</i> </p>
<p>Bella bolted awake, scream dying in her throat and her shirt soaked to her skin with cold sweat. Her heart was running a marathon in her chest and her stomach was churning. It had been weeks, maybe even months since she had had a nightmare that vivid, and she knew it was going to haunt her for hours. </p>
<p>She pushed herself from the bed on shaky limbs, intending to get her bowl or maybe a shot of whiskey from Charlie’s liquor cabinet, but was interrupted by a knock on the front door. She threw on Jacob’s hoodie before wiping her eyes and finger combing her hair, then bounded down the stairs and peeked through the keyhole to find Jacob himself standing on her front step. Something in her chest loosened and she found herself grinning as she turned the lock and opened the door. </p>
<p>Jake stood there, sunny smile firmly in place, holding up a box of conversation hearts. “Wanna be my Valentine, Bells?” His grin slipped slightly as he took in her blotchy face and bloodshot eyes “Woah, Bells, what’s-”</p>
<p>He was cut off as she launched herself at him in a fierce hug, sobbing into his shoulder. His arms slowly came up around her, box of candy awkwardly dangling from one hand, as he chanted, “Shhhh, honey, it’s all right. Shhhh.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>A week later found she and Jake sitting on their favorite driftwood log on First Beach after riding. The wind was strong, and she was trying fruitlessly to tuck herself further into her jacket and Jake’s hoodie. Jacob, meanwhile, was seemingly unfazed in his short sleeved t shirt and jeans. </p>
<p>“How are you not freezing?”</p>
<p>“I’m just hotter than you,” he deadpanned. Bella rolled her eyes and shoved gently at his chest. “No, but seriously, stop shivering and come over here.” He opened his arms and she obliged, tucking herself into him. He was hot - not looks wise (although she would have to be blind not to notice that) but temperature wise, he felt like a furnace. It felt unbelievably good, and she sighed contentedly. </p>
<p>They sat in comfortable silence, as they often did, until Jacob’s voice came, soft and questioning, “Bella?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Jake?”</p>
<p>He paused, seeming to weigh his words. “I know . . .I don’t know exactly what happened. But I know . . .he . . .really hurt you.” She stiffened, her hand coming to her chest defensively, but he stroked her arm soothingly as he continued. “I just want you to know that, I would never do that. I would never, ever hurt you. You can count on me.” </p>
<p>Her chest was at once both filled with pleasant warmth and icy pain as she pulled her head back from his shoulder to meet his eyes. “I know,” she said softly. Because she did, as surely as she knew her own name, she knew that Jacob Black would never do anything to harm her. </p>
<p>She felt trapped in the warm depths of his gaze, his words like a vow, and the warmth slowly began to edge out the pain. So when he, ever so slowly, began to lower his face towards hers, and she saw his eyes flicker to her mouth and then back, she made no move to stop him. And when his lips, ever so gently, met hers, she closed her eyes. </p>
<p>Jacob’s lips were warm and soft against her own, not cold and firm. His skin was almost blisteringly hot against her. He smelled of the woods, and mint, clean and earthy. Jacob was not otherworldly and mysterious, he was kind, and good, and human. And kissing him felt good, and normal, and human. She was equal parts elated and agonized to realize that she liked it, she liked it quite a bit. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Jacob dropped her off in his newly finished Rabbit that night, both their mouths slightly red and swollen, and promised to call her so they could meet up after school the next day. </p>
<p>But the call never came.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>don't throw things at me! the planned ending is STILL e/b but this was always going to happen (and for the team jacob fans, there will be an alternate ending)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. empty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>bella backslides when jacob disappears.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jake, it’s Bella. I don’t know if I missed your call, but . . .call me back when you get a chance.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jake, it’s me again. It’s been a few days, are you okay? Mike was talking about Face Punch at lunch today and it made me think of you. Call me back when you can.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jake, your dad says you have mono? Can I bring you anything - soup, your school work?  . . .I miss you. Call me if you feel up to it.  . .please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jake, please, it’s been over a week. If this is about what happened . . .we can just pretend it didn’t, okay? Nothing has to change. I just miss you. So, please, call me back.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With every unanswered phone call, with every unreturned message, the pit inside Bella’s chest cracked wider open. The pain was staggering, the agony of a half-healed wound having its stitches pulled out with blunt nails. And every time she closed her eyes, their feverish kisses flashed behind her lids, backlit with harsh red. A neon sign - </span>
  <em>
    <span>this is what you did.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because she could not fathom another reason why Jacob - loving, solid, kind Jacob - would just. . .disappear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, she was the destructive force driving away those she cares about most. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid, stupid girl.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bella had not slept a full night in over a week. Her stash was long gone, the last of it used in a failed, desperate attempt to bypass the nightmares that were again a nightly occurrence. Her head was constantly pounding, there were almost black shadows under her eyes, and her jeans were again baggy around the waist. She felt as if her skin was too tight, too constricting, and she wanted to claw it off to allow her space to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pacing in the living room gave no relief. A flash of silver caught her eye - keys to the Chevy. They were in her hands before she completed the thought, heart pounding a desperate tattoo against her ribs as the engine turned over. No destination in mind, breath came a little easier as she drove through the misty streets of Forks. Bella straightened her hands on the steering wheel and counted her breaths, letting her mind clear and autopilot take over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scraping of gravel under the tires was a sudden shift, and she came back to herself only for her heart to drop into her gut in a sickening, sudden plunge. For the trees surrounding her were too familiar. Her body had turned traitor, leading her back to the last place she ever wanted to see again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, within moments the faded white, three story house was within view. The Cullen home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Numb fingers turned off the ignition. Detached limbs opened the door and climbed out onto the unpaved driveway. Hollow legs walked to the edge of the wrap-around porch. The forest here was as still and silent as a tomb. The front lawn was wild, grass almost to her hips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One step was climbed, two, then three. A hand rose, unbidden, to turn the knob on the front door. Surprisingly, the door swung open, silent. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I guess they don’t worry about robbers.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A giggle caught in Bella’s throat. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The emptiness hit her like a physical blow.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Every place she had spent time, everything she had ever made memories with . . .gone. The couch, where Emmett played Grand Theft Auto for hours; the old fashioned cross on the wall, the symbol of Carlisle’s human past; the piles of fashion magazines Alice insisted they read together; the kitchen where she helped teach Esme to bake and acted as taste tester for batches and batches of cookies, until she felt her stomach would explode. Gone, empty, lost. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was when she passed through the dining room door that she fell to her knees, tears finally spilling as she gasped out a sob. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because there, on its raised platform, was a stunning grand piano. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It may have been moments or hours that the tears fell. It was not a cathartic cry, but rather a cry that left Bella feeling wrung out and exhausted but still every bit as agonized as before. She harshly wiped her still-wet cheeks, wincing at the sting, and stood on shaking legs. There was nothing left for her here, and she wasn’t sure why that realization ached so sharply. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s been months, get over it, Bella.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She took a deep breath in her nose and blew it out through her mouth, wiped her face once more, and walked stiffly back out the same path as she entered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bella? Is that you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smooth, velvet and slightly accented voice jolted her as she stepped out the front door, causing her to trip down the steps. Breath escaped her in a hiss as her hands hit the rough gravel, and then he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, right in front of her with that unnerving supernatural speed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Laurent?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled and a chill ran down her spine at the gleam of those razor sharp teeth. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” he purred. “I thought I had to be mistaken. I see that the Cullens have left, I was hoping to pay them a visit.” His eyes narrowed, and she noted their color - a deep burgundy. “I’m surprised they left you here, weren’t you sort of a  . . .pet of theirs?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could think of no answer to that question that wouldn’t lead to her death, so she scrambled, then blurted. “Did you make it to Denali?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurent’s smile became a grin, those deadly teeth sparkling in the dimming sunlight. “Yes, the ladies of Denali are lovely. I’m very fond of Irina, in particular.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bella subtly scooted backwards an inch as she remarked, “I’ve heard such lovely things about them.” Her eyes flicked to his and she tried to keep her expression neutral. Another inch backwards. “I know the diet can be an adjustment. Jasper, especially, I know he struggled.” The mention of Jasper was a tactical one, a reminder of the most lethal Cullen, one she hoped would hit the mark. And, indeed, Laurent’s eyes widened slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it can be a struggle. Though,” he shrugged, “Between you and I, I sometimes cheat.” His expression turned suddenly serious. “Bella, I have to be honest with you.” She scooted another tiny inch backwards. “I came here as a favor. To Victoria.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bella froze as terror lodged in her throat, her mind going suddenly blank. Laurent continued speaking, as if they were two old friends. “You see, she blames you for James’ death. I tried to reason with her, but a vampire who has lost their mate. . .” He shook his head, clucked his tongue. “There is no reasoning with them. Really, you should be glad that I’m the one that found you. The things she has planned for you . . .” Then he was in front of her again, almost on top of her, his icy hand pushing her hair behind her ear in an obscene facsimile of tenderness. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, even as her heart hammered within her veins. She watched his crimson eyes trace a path to the jumping pulse in her throat, watched them turn black with hunger, and still she could not move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not as his lips parted, venom dripping from those teeth that looked both human and inhuman. Not as he moved his head almost in slow motion. Not when she felt his cold breath on the skin of her neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not as he froze in place before exclaiming “It can’t be!” Not as what sounded like a stampede erupted from the forest behind them. Not as Laurent abruptly broke away from her and began to move backwards as if in a panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not even as a wolf the size of a Clydesdale horse leapt into the air, knocking Laurent to the ground and taking his neck between those giant jaws. Or as a dreadlocked head was thrown to the grass beside her like a discarded chew toy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only when the wolf </span>
  <em>
    <span>shimmered</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of existence and a 6’7” man with a build to rival Emmett’s and a face that was achingly familiar stood in front of her, that Bella moved to speak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jacob?!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
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